


I Have The Honour To Be Your Obedient Servant

by prettybirdy979



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Family Feels, Gen, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Mentors, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Matt Murdock, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 10:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettybirdy979/pseuds/prettybirdy979
Summary: Matt didn't think much of Tony Stark, not really, even with the whole warmonger to superhero bit. Then he met Peter Parker, teenaged superhero who Tony Stark saw fit to take to Berlin to asback up.Now he's pretty sure he hates Tony Stark. But Peter doesn't so, for his sake, Matt will try and get along.But if Stark starts something, Matt's going to the one ending it.He can't wait.





	I Have The Honour To Be Your Obedient Servant

**Author's Note:**

> This... this has been a long time coming. The original idea is from sometime in late 2017; fic started around then. And then life happened and well - this fic didn't. 
> 
> And now I've finished it. Thanks to [ the WIP Big Bang](https://wipbigbang.tumblr.com/), it is finally going to see the light of day! With AMAZING art from Shuufleur!
> 
> Huge thank yous to Zwaluw, without whom this idea never would've got past me talking and whose cheerleading kept the fic alive; and to Rdyest whose cheerleading got the fic over the finish line - and whose last minute beta meant I'm posting (probably) typo and weird sentence free - any remaining are my fault for last minute edits!

‘I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me,’ Peter mutters, the embarrassment in his tone not quite enough to overpower the awe that’s been there since they walked into the cafe. Because all it takes to awe this teen is a geek themed cafe. 

Amusement makes Matt warm. For all his responsibilities, Peter can be such a child sometimes. And it makes him hopeful - maybe Peter won’t suffer for his choice to pursue this life.

Well. Suffer anymore than he already has. 

‘They are,’ Matt says, tilting his head to better hear the whispered voices around them. He smirks at the uptick in Peter’s heart and adds, ‘Well, half of everyone’s eyes. Corner table to your left is more concerned with a fight with her laptop and man behind me and to the right is all but worshiping his cup. The rest of the cafe is looking at you.’

Peter doesn’t turn his head but does copy Matt’s head tilt. Good. ‘So the other two people at the table behind me?’ 

His voice is as soft as Matt’s, a whisper in a roaring sea of noise. Best method for privacy, and Matt’s delighted at the progress Peter’s made to be able to do this. This at least, is progress Matt’s happy to be a part of. To have helped with.

‘And the takeaway coffees at the counter,’ Matt adds. ‘Perfumed woman waiting thinks you’re such a good boy for being with the…’ Matt pauses, swallowing down the stab of hurt at the insult the woman’s just said. She couldn’t have known he could hear her, and probably doesn’t realise it’s an insult.

Which just makes it that much _ worse _. 

‘So she’s an idiot then?’ Peter says. Matt can hear the muscles of his face twitching in a way that makes Matt think he’s grimacing. 

‘Probably,’ Matt offers after a moment.

The bell over the cafe’s door dings, and it’s like someone stole the breath from everyone in the room. The roar of noise dies, sharp and sudden as if someone had hit the mute button. Even the girl fighting with her laptop cuts off mid-curse to stare at the man who is walking in.

Matt closes his eyes - an unnecessary but ingrained gesture - to focus, narrowing his senses on this man. Middle-aged by the way he’s moving, but an active one. He smells of grease, in a way that not even the expensive cologne he’s wearing can cover up. He’s wearing a hoodie, but under the cheap cotton Matt can tell he’s wearing expensive fabrics by the way it sounds rubbing against the man’s skin. 

Echoing beside him, Peter’s heart starts to pound. Whoever this is, either he’s famous or Peter knows him. And is panicking; either out of nerves or fear. 

Every muscle in Matt’s body tenses as he prepares for action, hot anger at the mere thought of Peter being scared by anyone in Matt’s presence. Nothing is going to happen to him while Matt’s here, that’s for sure.

‘Peter?’ Matt asks as the man approaches the counter. 

‘Mr Stark!’ the barista says, answering Matt’s question before Peter manages to open his mouth. ‘Umm, what can I get for you?’

‘Blackest coffee you have,’ Tony Stark says, his voice one Matt’s familiar with from his many many many press adventures. ‘And the sweetest one you have. With no coffee.’ 

Matt can hear the way the barista’s heart pounds as she scrambles to make the order, without even taking payment. Stark speaking seems to be the catalyst for everyone to start talking again, the whispers of ‘_ Iron Man! _ ’ and ‘ _ Tony Stark! In Hell’s Kitchen! _’ not quite enough to drown out the clicks of phone cameras. 

Beside him, Peter swears. In Spanish.

A soft warmth at Peter’s perfect pronunciation floods Matt even as he grimaces outwardly, to hide his pride. ‘Peter,’ he says in a warning tone that’s really too warm to be rebuking. ‘What’s happening?’

‘Mr Stark is here,’ Peter whispers in the same low tone he’s been using all afternoon. ‘And I don’t want to lie to him about how we met but…’

Ah. That’s what has Peter so upset. Matt’s sure there’s something more to the panic, but now is really not the time to push.

Plus it is a valid concern. Matt’s under no illusions that he’s Peter’s only mentor; the teen babbles too much for any such illusion to have stood. But for all the times they’ve worked together, the press and general public are yet to connect Spider-Man and Daredevil. Even Foggy only found out they worked together when Matt told him, and well. From what Matt can gather, there’s no way there is a person more informed about Daredevil’s media - and social media - presence than Foggy.

Except maybe Tony Stark, if he’s managed to connect the two. 

But that might be borrowing trouble. Matt’s got enough trouble in his life without borrowing more. Time to go with the conversation and see where he ends up. Pray for the best but prepare for the worst.

‘Just follow my lead,’ Matt says as Stark grabs the drinks he ordered, pushing a handful of notes into the delighted barista’s hands - delighted at least, if the way she gasps is any indication.

After which he casually strolls across the cafe, pulling up a chair to sit at Matt and Peter’s booth. He pushes the sweet smelling one across the table, so it’s now right in front of Peter and moves Peter’s empty cup aside. 

Both cups smell exactly the same. _ He knows Peter’s tastes. _

‘Well Buckaroo, when your aunt said you were out with your friends, this isn’t what I quite expected.’ There’s a dark note in Stark’s voice, something that has the desire to punch him in the face racing through Matt. 

He’s heard enough, from Peter’s stories, to know that Stark is the reason Peter is as involved in this vigilante life as he is. That Stark inspired Peter long before he took a fifteen year old to Germany, and his interactions with the teen have only strengthened Peter’s resolve to be a vigilante.

Matt would happily hate Stark for that, if it wasn’t for the reality that he’s the reason Peter’s also the best protected vigilante in New York. 

And that half of that isn’t actually Stark’s fault. 

Maybe a quarter. 

Okay so most of it. Matt’s never claimed to be a perfect man and Stark’s an easier - and better - target for his frustrations than the stubborn fifteen year old he can’t quite manage to protect.

‘Peter?’ Matt says trying to keep his voice light. ‘Who’s this?’

‘You asshole,’ Peter whispers, his heart pounding. He sounds outraged and Matt bites back a smirk. No need to let Stark think there’s something suspicious here this early.

‘Ah, Matt, this is umm. Tony Stark. I ah, intern with him sometimes. I think I mentioned it?’

Stark snorts. ‘Kid, I know you. You don’t shut up about our internship.’

‘You’re not wrong there,’ Matt says and gets a bolt of pleasure at the way Stark’s heart skips a beat. Delight? Surprise? Both of them?

‘Matt Murdock,’ he says, holding out a hand in Stark’s general direction. After a long moment, Stark takes it and shakes. ‘Peter and I met when I ran into a bit of trouble in an alleyway. Pete helped me out and I offered to help him with Spanish in return.’ 

It’s not really that much of a lie. Condensed maybe, but basically how they met.

‘And you do this out of the goodness of your heart?’ Stark sounds like he’s examining Matt, the way his head keeps moving up and down a definite indicator he’s realised Matt is blind. And is taking ruthless advantage. 

‘I owed Peter, and he needed the help. It was an elegant solution that provided a solution to both our problems.’ Matt cocks his head and puts on his most charming smile, ‘It helps that Peter is an incredible person and I enjoy his company.’

‘Matt!’ Peter cries, teenaged embarrassment in his voice. There’s a note though, something soft and warm. Does Matt need to tell Peter he’s worth being around more?

‘And the fact he’s half your age?’

Fury races through Matt, lighting every nerve in his body with a fiery rage that makes the desire to punch Tony Stark in the face so much more potent. It’s tempered, slightly, by the logical thought that this is a valid conclusion to jump to. Matt is, after all, an older man interacting with a teenager he has no direct relation or - apparent - connection to. 

But only a bit.

Before Matt can open his mouth and unleash some of the fire consuming him, Peter speaks. 

‘It’s not like that Mr Stark. Matt’s a friend, like you are.’

Oh _ Peter _. But, Matt realises, probably the best way to defuse this situation without someone yelling.

For all his faults, Stark isn’t a dumb man. Quite the opposite really, so it’s only a moment later that Matt hears his heart rate skip. 

‘Huh. Well then.’ His head lifts up and down again, and Matt can practically hear the way he’s thinking. ‘Not many unmasked heroes around this part of town.’

Matt smiles. Not his usual charming Matt Murdock smile, but Daredevil’s raged induced grin that always has criminals cowering when he uses it.

He’s pleased to hear Stark shiver. 

‘More than you think,’ Matt replies, his voice lowered so it’s closer to Daredevil’s low tones. ‘Plenty of people here are heroes without needing a mask.’ 

‘But there’s only one in Hell’s Kitchen with a mask,’ Stark pushes, leaning forward. ‘Only one who thinks he’s above the law.’

‘Daredevil’s not the only “superhero” who acts like he’s above the law. At least he doesn’t pretend he’s not though.’ Matt leans back and feels around for his cane. ‘Peter, you alright if I leave you here?’

‘Oh yeah, fine. Umm-’

‘Tomorrow, usual time.’ Matt pauses, weighing his options, then adds, ‘Mr Stark is welcome too, if he doesn’t mind dressing down.’

Stark tilts his head. ‘How dressed down?’ he asks, making the words sound, somehow, like a threat. 

‘No _ suit _,’ Matt replies, lingering on the word and hoping Stark gets the message. He freezes for a second then nods.

Message received. 

********

The knock at his door, about twenty minutes before he’s due to suit up and meet Peter, isn’t unexpected. 

Honestly Matt expected it to happen _ yesterday _ so that Stark waited this long is a massive surprise. The man’s public image wouldn’t suggest he’s capable of this type of patience. 

Unless he took the time to research Matt. That would fit into the image the media - and Peter - have built of Tony Stark. 

Steeling himself, Matt takes a deep breath then moves to the door. ‘Who is it?’ he calls out, even though he can hear Stark’s slightly off heartbeat and taste his cologne. Matt might be about to give up his secrets, for Peter’s sake, but that doesn’t mean he can’t take every chance to throw his blindness in Stark’s face. 

It might be enough to make one or two of the lessons stick. 

A long pause. Then, ‘Do I have to say my name or is this enough?’

Matt opens the door before Stark’s finished speaking, one of his more people friendly grins on his face. ‘Sorry, can’t be too careful in this city.’ 

With the door open, he can get a better sense of what Stark’s wearing. No suit - metal or otherwise - as requested, but Matt can hear the buzz of a current at his wrists and behind his ear. So still armed at least. Stark is wearing the same hoodie he wore the day before, but this time he’s wearing very rough clothes underneath it. Matt can hear how they scrape against Stark’s skin. 

He steps aside to let Stark in and pauses after he closes the door, tracking Stark’s reactions as he walks into Matt’s flat. 

Stark doesn’t disappoint, pausing at the end of his hallway with a soft whistle. ‘Nice light show,’ he comments, his head twisting around as he takes in the room. There’s a tightness to his body language, a tension in every muscle that makes Matt’s muscles coil up in sympathy.

And anticipation.

‘I’m told it’s quite a view,’ Matt says softly, moving up the hall. ‘My friend Foggy calls it ‘the light show from Hell’.’ He tilts his head, then adds, ‘Peter just seems to think it’s awesome. Explains every colour to me, like it will stop me quizzing him on his verbs.’ 

That gets a soft huff out of Stark, something that might’ve been a laugh if he’d given it any more volume. 

‘So you actually do teach him Spanish.’

It’s a statement, not a question, but it is also an opening. ‘As much as I can, yes. I want Peter to use his head not his fists.’ Matt can’t keep the wistfulness out of his voice at that line, the memory of a broken promise - to his father, to himself - weighing his tone down. 

Stark just makes a noise that might be agreement, turning in such a way Matt’s sure there’s a significant look on his face. Completely wasted of course; Matt’s nowhere near familiar enough with Stark to judge what look he’s been given. Hell, he’s not sure with Foggy half the time and there’s no one on this Earth that he knows as well as he does Foggy.

‘So where are we meeting the kid? I asked and he just sent me this address.’ There’s a note in his voice, a dip in his heart, that means Stark might be lying but it’s too small for Matt to be sure.

‘Roof,’ Matt says, with a nod at his stairs. ‘Convenient for both of us.’ He pulls out his gear, putting it on as fast as he can manage. Peter won’t be far off now.

Stark looks at the stairs for a long moment. ‘And it puts all the risk on you,’ he says, with a note of _ something _ in his voice that has Matt’s shoulders rising and him swallowing the desire to give Stark a dirty look. 

Yes, it does put the risk on Matt. Having his roof be a hotspot for Daredevil and Spider-Man does make it more likely someone might connect the dots between that constantly injured lawyer Matt Murdock and the always bleeding vigilante Daredevil but… it’s a risk Matt’s happy to take. Better he runs a constant risk than have Peter exposed to unknown and changing risks if they mixed up their routine. 

And best for Peter to _ have _a routine, a safe harbour in his vigilantism. It might be a risk for Matt, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing. Peter’s more important.

‘I am the adult here, the risks are mine to take,’ Matt snaps, then bites his lip to get his temper under control. He’s reacting to Stark’s body language, the silent ‘FUCK YOU’ he’s putting off in every gesture and word but that’s no excuse. Peter respects this man, Matt’s not going to be the one who starts a fight with him.

Finish it, sure. But not start it.

Stark snorts and mutters something that Matt chooses to ignore in favour of the soft thump of Peter landing on the roof. He grabs the bag he’d dropped at the foot of the stairs earlier and is halfway up the stairs before he hears Stark’s ignored words trail off. 

‘Got somewhere to be?’ Stark snarks as he takes the first step.

‘Someone to meet,’ Matt snaps back. ‘You might want to listen a little more Stark, or you’ll miss important things.’

‘Gonna be like that, huh?’

‘Mr Stark? Matt?’ Peter says both names in the exact same tone of voice, despite addressing Stark with a formality Matt never let stand. Something throbs in him, deep and easily ignored.

Stark pauses in the doorway, head tilting. ‘Am I gonna be the only party member without a costume then?’

‘Didn’t think to bring a mask?’ Matt says with a smirk before reaching into his unzipped bag and throwing the top piece of cloth at Stark. ‘Knew the kid was exaggerating about your over preparedness.’

Peter starts to sputter, sentences that might be defending Stark if he managed to get them into something like words, while Stark stares down at the mask.

And stares some more. 

‘There are no eye holes in this,’ he says finally, cutting through Peter’s sounds. 

Matt just smirks. ‘Who needs eyes?’ he says.

‘Oh ha ha.’ Stark turns the mask over in his hands. ‘Seriously though, I’m gonna need something in this if you want me to wear it.’

Peter hops on the spot, reaching into his boots. ‘I have a knife Mr Stark! It’s got scissors.’

Stark takes the pocket knife Matt gave Peter a month ago, the soft clanks Matt hears indicating he’s examining it from a few angles. ‘Swiss Army Knife,’ he says in a neutral tone.

Matt shrugs. ‘Someone had to give the kid something useful.’

He hears Stark’s soft growl as Peter, again, starts making sounds to try and defend Stark. ‘Whoa, Matt that’s that’s like so not true cause Mr Stark gave me this totally awesome suit and Aunt May gave me a phone and you gave me a knife and everyone gives me-’

‘Breathe kid,’ Stark says as the splitting of fabric and the snips of scissors let Matt know he’s ruining one of the few masks to survive Matt’s Devil of Hell’s Kitchen days. ‘Breathe.’

Matt’s certain Stark’s eyes haven’t left him. _ Game on Stark _ , he thinks. _ Your move _.

******** 

Tony Stark is a _ terrible _ vigilante. 

He’s loud. So goddamned loud that Matt has to clench his teeth to stop them grindling in frustration, and even that’s not enough to drown out the sheer amount of noise that Stark is making just by _ breathing _ let alone when he attempts to move. 

Any grace and sneakiness that Peter has must be down to natural talent because he certainly didn’t pick it up from Stark.

‘Wow, Mr Stark,’ Peter says as the three of them huddle behind a wall. ‘I didn’t know you’d be this good without the suit!’

Matt swallows, trying to keep the replies sitting on his tongue to himself. Now is not the time to point out how fucking loud and all over the place Stark is; that’s for when you’re behind closed doors and able to actually make noise. 

Sure he’s kept up with them darting over rooftops, moving along without a single complaint despite the slight huff to his breathing that echoes in Matt’s ears along with the odd thumping of Stark’s heart. And yes okay, he’s hiding pretty well from what Matt remembers of sightlines - not that Matt usually teaches Peter much about sightlines. 

But he’s so _ loud _ . Any good he’s done is negated by how fucking _ loud _ he is.

‘I’m more than the suit, kid,’ Stark says with a weird note in his voice.

‘I kno-’

‘Shh,’ Matt hisses, focusing past the chatter on the rooftop to try and pick out the words of the two men who just wandered into the alley below them. They’re talking in low voices but the mutter of ‘Devil’s not around’ captures Matt’s attention. 

Plenty of people don’t want to meet Daredevil, but the only ones that worry if he’s around are people with things to hide.

Peter’s at his side in an instant, tilting his head with a whir of whatever motors are in the eyes of his suit. ‘Only two?’ he mutters. Matt waits a long moment, listening to the men below before Peter takes a deep breath. ‘Only two,’ he says again, this time in a confident voice.

Behind them Stark whispers something into his wrist but Matt tunes out the specifics in favour of focusing on the conversation below them.

‘Ten thousand now, and another thirty on delivery,’ one man says, his voice deep and his words slow.

‘Twenty now and thirty on delivery,’ the second man hisses, his voice squeaking on the last word. ‘Devil been sniffing around the shipments and he got company.’

Deep groans. ‘Like I’m gonna believe th-’

‘That spider freak from Queens,’ Squeaky cuts in. Matt nearly hums in surprise; he’d not thought Squeaky had the backbone to interrupt anything.

There’s a long moment of silence, broken only by the slight increase in Deep’s heart rate. ‘Spider-Man is working with Daredevil? That’s valuable information… if it’s true.’

Squeaky snorts, taking a step back from Deep. Matt shifts in preparation - if one of them goes to leave, he’s jumping in. But no, Squeaky just starts to pace.

‘Lost three shipments of your shit in two months and half of ‘em were covered in webs.’ Squeaky stops pacing and moves back towards Deep with a shake of his head, judging by the sound of metal jingling - earrings on Squeaky then - and whispers, ‘Heard rumours Nines tried to set up a trap for the Freak and got himself and half his crew broken for it.’

Peter hisses at this and Matt puts a hand on his shoulder, ignoring Stark doing the same on the kid’s other side. 

‘Not your fault,’ Matt whispers, then takes a deep breath. ‘I’ll move in in ten - you’re on getaway.’

With a nod Peter ducks out from under Matt and Stark’s hands, and heads for the entrance the alleyway. 

‘And me?’

‘Try to keep up,’ Matt hisses and jumps for the fire escape below.

********

Matt walks away from his night with nothing more than a few bruises - none of which are to his _ ego _ thank you very much Peter, Stark was clearly struggling most of the night and not a step behind Matt no way. It’s actually a pretty good night for injuries, one that’s not going to have Foggy making the noises that probably mean he’s giving Matt _ looks _ all day.

Stark walks away with a - presumably - tiny bruise to the face that Peter doesn’t stop fussing over the entire run to Matt’s place. The ice pack Matt gives Stark is more about shutting Peter up than it is anything Stark needs.

Amatuer. 

********

By the third week Stark’s shown up for one of their patrol nights, Matt's so full of regret that he wants to scream. Having the slow and loud Stark tagging along is _ maddening _and what's more, every time he gets there Peter lights up like Stark just invented Christmas for him alone instead of giving him the bare amount of attention he deserves. 

Plus Matt is getting sick of having a constant voice of criticism looking over his shoulder. Not that Stark’s decent enough to be upfront about it, no he’s all pointed comments and whispered suggestions. Each word _ burns _ at Matt but he made a promise - he won’t be the one to start this fight. 

Stark’ll do it; Matt’s certain. After all, he gave Stark an inch and he's not only taken a mile, he's trying to conquer the country and remake it in his image. 

Typical.

********

Peter’s fidgety the next time they meet - sans Stark, thank the Lord - hands twitching and knee bouncing. 

Okay, no. He’s always fidgety but this is a step up from his usual. Instead of small taps and the occasional silent bounce when he’s not moved for a while, Peter is all twitch. If they were outside Matt’s sure Peter would be hanging off of something or have bounded off after some cat in an alleyway just because it made a noise. But tonight they’re in Fogwell’s, practicing form and grammar - one punch for every correct verb tense - so there’s not a lot of space for Peter to twitch in.

If it was anyone else, Matt’s sure he would’ve thrown them by now. But it’s _ Peter… _

‘Kid, if there’s somewhere else you have to be I’m not stopping you going,’ Matt finally says when Peter nearly falls over, after a twitch at the wrong moment put him in the path of Matt’s unpulled punch and proves that for all the grace Spider-Man has, none of it is in dodging punches.

‘I’ll even come with,’ he adds, trying not to grimace. Leaving Hell’s Kitchen is a small price to pay to make sure Peter has the help he needs.

‘What?’ Peter sounds genuinely confused. Silently Matt crosses ‘Criminals Peter isn’t fighting’ off the list of possible reasons why Peter’s so goddamned nervous.

It’s a long list. 

‘You’re bouncy Pete,’ Matt says, feeling a soft smile spread across his face. He half turns, hoping that’ll keep it from sight. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were Puppy-Man not Spider-Man from all the twitching you’re doing.’

Peter gasps. ‘Oh my God, how cute would Puppy-Man be? Can you imagine his powers Matt? No bad guy could fight him, he’d be _ unstopable _.’

Matt can’t stop the laugh in his chest from slipping out. ‘Not my point kid.’

‘You had a point?’ Peter asks, with a voice that is a little _ too _ innocent. 

‘Peter.’

‘It’s… well. It’s nothing… but well no it is a thing but it’s not a big thing and I do need to actually ask but it’s totally okay if you don’t want to come or you’re too busy or something but-’

‘Breathe!’ Matt grabs Peter’s shoulders, lowering his head to a point where he’s sure they’re making eye contact or something close to it. Peter takes a couple of long, slow breaths that begin to slow his pounding heart. Eventually he raises his head a touch. Ah, must’ve missed eye contact by a fraction.

‘Now, can you say that slower?’ Matt asks when Peter’s heart has slowed down. ‘And with some context please.’

‘Mr Stark’s asked me to come to a ball he’s having.’ Peter sounds a little like he’s talking about being dragged to hell but at the same time his heart pounds in a way Matt usually associates with excitement. ‘A real fancy one, but with the best tech and… he said I could bring someone.’

Matt raises his eyebrows at the unspoken request. ‘I would’ve thought you’d take your Aunt. Or one of your friends.’

‘They were all invited too. Like, everyone! It’s kinda nuts, half my class is going - okay not half just the team but they’re all going to talk so it’ll be all over the school - and I think he only did it cause they’ve been weird about the internship and it’s really nice but then he said I could take anyone else i want and it’s-’

‘Breathe Pete,’ Matt reminds him, and bites the laugh down as Peter just takes one rapid breath and continues to ramble.

Matt lets him, focusing on his thoughts.

Because Stark, this isn’t even _ subtle _ . It’s clear that he doesn’t want Matt there but if he doesn’t invite him - or at least make a token effort at inviting him - then Peter will _ know _ . So he’s setting Matt up to refuse and making _ him _ be the one to tell Peter.

Be the one to disappoint Peter.

Not this time pal. Not this time.

‘So I’m the only person you know not invited then?’ Matt asks in a soft voice, cutting into Peter’s ramble.

‘Well, the only person I know who’d I want there.’ 

Peter says it so earnestly, a note in his voice that strikes deep at Matt’s heart. 

‘I’ll be there,’ he says, like there was any other option. ‘Promise.’

********

The ball is, as expected, _ hell _. 

Matt’s senses are screaming at him, giving him so much information about each member of the crowd that only focusing on the glass - crystal, smelling of disinfectant and full of red wine Matt’s sure costs more than his weekly rent - in his hand allows him to tune out. Metal and copper surrounds the edges of the crowds, obviously the technology Peter was so excited about.

Nothing in his corner though, which is helping. 

And _ teenagers. _ So many teenagers _ everywhere _ with sweat, awful body spray, and excited breaking voices to just add to the constant crush of the crowd.

Stark’s making a point of talking to every single one. 

From his corner Matt’s able to track the hum of the reactor, the most unique noise in this monstrosity of a room, as Stark works his way through the room talking mostly to teenagers. Some can’t seem to talk back, but Stark talks to them all the same. 

Peter doesn’t leave his side.

And in his corner, Matt feels something cold and heavy settle in his chest. He takes another sip, trying to draw his attention away from Star-

‘Matt Murdock?’ a woman asks from right in front of him, and Matt’s jump is genuine - he’d been so focused on Stark he’d tuned out the people near him. He feels wine dripping over his hand and chest, hears the drops hitting the floor and curses.

Thank God he’s wearing his red shirt tonight. 

...Hopefully.

‘Oh God, I’m so sorry!’ the woman says, and Matt hears her pull something out of her purse. ‘Here, I have a tissue. Your eleven.’

Something warm slips down Matt’s throat and he reaches for the tissue as the woman takes his glass. She hands it to a waiter coming up behind her, taking something cloth off his tray. 

‘It’s on your shirt too I think - the red’s hiding it. Do you need a hand?’

Matt smiles, the warmth seeping through him. ‘If you don’t mind? I might miss some.’ He grins at her, hoping it comes off as charming rather than anything negative. It’s not her fault he wasn’t paying attention.

The woman’s touch is gentle but professional as she quickly wipes at the wetness on Matt’s shirt along with a couple of spots that don’t feel wet to Matt. The scent of wine decreases as she steps away

‘Got it all. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s fine. I assume you were after me for something?’ 

The woman shuffles in place, the clink of her heels on the floor echoing in Matt’s ears. ‘Oh yes. Tony mentioned Peter had brought an extra person and I thought I should introduce myself - I’m Pepper Potts.’

Matt kicks himself internally. ‘Miss Potts, an honour,’ he says and smiles a little when he hears the thump of her heart pick up for a beat. ‘If I’d known you were here I-’

‘Might’ve left the corner?’ Miss Potts says, a smirk in her voice. ‘And it’s Pepper, please.’

‘Ah- Well-’ 

Miss P- _ Pepper _ waves a hand. ‘I’m waving my hand right now. You’re not the first guest to find one of Tony’s parties overwhelming and that’s without him hogging the attention of the person you came with.’ She turns to look at the other side of the room where Stark’s introducing Peter to someone he knows. ‘Though usually the person whose attention he’s hogging is a touch older.’

There’s a note in her voice that hints at… at _ something _ even Matt has enough wisdom not to poke at. 

‘Perhaps I could return the favour then?’ he says and offers her his arm. ‘Peter’s talked about you sometimes - when he’s not going on about Mr Stark.’

She takes his arm gently and leads him away from his corner. ‘All good I hope?’

People step aside as they cross the floor and a part of Matt _ sings _ when he hears Stark’s head whip around to watch them cross the floor. ‘According to Peter you’re the true hero at this party. And Stark Industries.’

‘From what I hear, you’ve taken a few steps in that direction,’ Pepper says. Matt’s stomach fills with ice at the hint of knowledge in her voice. 

‘I-’

‘Teaching Peter some boxing moves? Spanish?’ Pepper cuts in. ‘And from what Tony’s mentioned about your firm…’ she trails off, then shakes her head. ‘It’s nice to know that Peter has at least one non-superhero mentor in his life.’

Either Pepper’s the best liar in the world or she doesn’t actually know about Daredevil. Matt’s throat is tight, his heart pounding as he tries to swallow. He needs to say something-

‘Pep! I see you’ve met Mr Murdock,’ Stark says as they finally reach the other side of the room and Matt takes a deep breath.

_ Showtime _. 

‘Matt!’ Peter cries and bounces to his side. Silently, Pepper lets go of Matt’s arm and moves to Stark’s side as Peter does a final bounce to be where she was beside Matt. Matt waits until Peter brushes his arm before shifting it. A tiny movement, that only maybe Foggy would take as the offer it is….

Peter, somehow, also gets it and slips his arm into the crook of Matt’s. 

Stark makes a strangled noise. ‘Enjoying the party?’

Matt smirks. ‘The company so far has been spectacular.’ He can hear the twitch of muscle as Stark scrowls and Pepper’s laugh might be under her breath but it rings like bells in his ears.

‘And the party itself?’

‘Acceptable.’

‘Acceptable!’ Peter says, sounding outraged. ‘But look at all the tech!’ Matt waits a long beat. ‘...oh.’

Matt just grins. ‘Show me anyway; I’m sure you’ll be able to make even these things interesting.’

He hears Pepper’s soft huff of laughter as Stark makes an outraged noise. ‘Are you calling my tech _ boring _?’

‘I did nothing of the sort, but I believe you just did.’ Matt lightly tugs at Peter’s arm to get him moving towards the tech. 

Stark makes some very uncomplimentary comments about lawyers under his breath, each one making Matt swallow a laugh as he and Peter walk across the room. 

Pepper’s whispered ‘I like him,’ makes every step of Matt’s feel like he’s walking on air, especially as it renews the stream of stuttering from Stark. 

‘I wish you two wouldn’t fight,’ Peter says softly as they approach the edge of the wall and the light feeling Matt had been walking on goes dark and cold as Matt freezes. ‘I know you’d get along if you just tried-’

‘Peter-’

‘But I also know it’s not that simple… but you’re always doing things like that.’ Peter turns and Matt’s sure he’s looking into Matt’s eyes. ‘Like poking at Mr Stark until he gets mad, just to see if he will.’

‘I don-’ Matt cuts himself off, realising he doesn’t want to lie to Peter. He sighs. ‘I understand.’ He turns towards one of the exhibits. ‘Now what’s this supposed to achieve?’

Peter’s silent for a long moment - just long enough Matt gets the hint that Peter’s aware he’s changing the subject and isn’t impressed. But then he begins to describe the exhibits in glorious detail, childish glee in every word and it’s hard to think that Peter might be mad at him.

Matt’ll just have to do better. He promised, after all, not to be the one to start this fight.

********

Matt tries.

It’s so hard but he _ tries _. 

He puts up with Stark dropping in on every single patrol with Peter for a solid week. He deals with every one of Stark’s snarky comments, clouding his hearing with useless noise that makes every moment on the street so much harder. 

He even suffers through Peter having to cancel last minute three of their planned nights in a row because Stark’s found some once in a lifetime thing for the kid to do - the apology cake Peter brings on their fourth attempt at a night of working together is homemade and vaguely underdone but tastes all the better for knowing Peter was the one to make it.

But then Stark crosses the line.

********

To be fair - if Stark is deserving of any fairness which he is not - Stark might not have known it was a line. It’s not like Matt’s explained the difference between the nights when he and Peter meet on Matt’s roof and the nights when they meet at the quiet Fogwell gym. Perhaps to an unobservant man they would look the same.

But Matt knows Stark is not unobservant. Stark’s _ researched _ him and any research _ Iron Man _ does is going to turn up everything of importance. 

Like this was Battlin’ Jack Murdock’s home gym; that this is _ Matt’s _ gym, in a way that only Hell’s Kitchen comes close to matching. That Matt has a long, bloody, and - urgh - _ tragic _ history, this gym a refuge and reminder in one.

If Stark had any sensitivity at all, he’d stay away from this place.

So Matt’s not at all surprised to hear the door to the gym open the first night he takes Peter back to his gym after meeting Stark in person. Especially not with it being the first night Peter’s actually made it to Hell’s Kitchen in the last month - Stark having run out of the last minute requests that have been coming thick and thin since that party.

Matt should’ve realised that he wasn’t going to be so lucky as to be left alone by Stark.. The stone in his stomach that sinks with each step Stark takes into the building shouldn’t be there.

Of course he came. Of course he couldn’t leave even this alone.

‘You know I think I’ve been here before,’ Stark drawls as he shuffles into the room, finally getting Peter to turn towards him. Like he’s not been making a racket the entire walk in.

Matt’s going to have to work on Peter’s situational awareness. Half the block must’ve heard Stark come in. 

‘You have?’ Matt says with as much disbelief as he can put into his voice. ‘Fogwell’s usual clientele are those looking for a fight.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘Usually those looking for a decent one too.’

Stark bristles. Good, he got the insult.

‘Rogers liked a place like this; same sort of falling apart oldness. Seen one, seen ‘em all.’ 

A slice of something hot strikes at Matt’s heart. ‘Keeps the riff-raff out,’ he says and smiles, making sure it’s the one that Foggy calls his shark grin. There’s something _ burning _ in his veins, crawling at his throat and the grin makes it easier to breathe for a tiny moment.

‘Mr Stark?’ Peter says, his voice shaking slightly. Matt half turns toward him, making sure to stand so that if he were sighted, Stark would still be in his. ‘What are you doing here?’

Stark waltzes to the ring, ducking under the ropes with a fluid motion. Not the first time he’s done the move then. The burning is now a wildfire, and it’s all Matt can do to think past it. 

_ How dare he be here? How dare he interrupt? How dare he be good at _ this _ too? _

_ How dare he take Peter’s attention… affection? He who first put it in danger and who hasn’t taught Peter a thing? _

_ HOW DARE- _

‘Heard you have a standing invite to this place. Thought I’d come see what it was all about.’ Stark is so casual, the only tension in him to be found in the forced steadiness of his breathing.

‘Wanted to have a go?’ Matt says and he can’t keep the challenge out of his voice. ‘Show off a few moves?’

Peter shifts in place as Stark moves to his corner. ‘Matt-’

‘Now why would I do that?’ Stark slides in front of Peter, his body already shifting into a fighting stance. His heart rate starts to pick up, a throbbing thumping noise that undermines the steadiness of his voice.

Matt just smirks, raising one eyebrow and waiting. 

‘Mr Stark I don’t think this a good idea… You two aren’t exactly matched...’

_ Yes! _ Stark’s heart rate jumps up a notch. But he steps back. ‘Yeah kid, I know. Not a fighter.’ But there’s a note in his voice that puts Matt on edge. ‘Happy’s outside kid; go tell him we’re giving you a lift home.’

‘But… but… I… I, I usually stay later than this?’ Peter’s lie is see through, even for Matt. They’d meant to finish up half an hour ago so Peter’d be home at a decent hour but well. Matt might’ve stopped keeping track of time with everything.

‘Yeah I know kid. Aunt Hottie mentioned.’ Stark shifts in place. ‘Also mentioned you make your own way home so I assume that’s half the time you’re out.’

‘I’m hardly able to give Peter a lift home,’ Matt argues, keeping the hurt racing through him out of his voice. ‘But it is getting late Peter. Don’t think I’ve not noticed your yawns.’

As if on cue, Peter yawns then groans. ‘Matt-’

‘Take the lift kid. Free rides are never to be turned down.’ Matt reaches out but drops his hand, the moment it gets closer to Stark. Right. ‘I’ll see you Friday.’

Peter stays still for a long moment, then ducks out of the ring. Matt listens to his steps as he slips out of the gym and into the changing rooms, before turning on Stark.

‘You actually have a reason to be here?’ he snaps, taking two steps forward.

Stark doesn’t step back. ‘It’s a Wednesday night and the kid’s been here hours. Course I got a reason to be here.’ He slips back into that fighting stance, his fists clenched by his side.

‘You have no right to keep him from me-’

‘I have _ every _ right.’ Stark hisses, getting in Matt’s face. ‘You don’t like me and that’s fine. Nothing I’ve seen makes me want to like you. But you don’t get to keep that kid coming into this city, for no good reason.’ 

‘That’s not your choice to make.’

Stark rears back as if Matt hit him. ‘Excuse me?’

Matt gets in his face, delighting in the way Stark’s fists creak with the tension he has in them. ‘You are not his father; you don’t get to make these choices for him or his aunt.’

‘Neither are _ you _,’ Stark snarls, pushing Matt a step back.

Letting himself be pushed back, Matt turns slightly so Stark’s hands slip and the force of his push slides them off Matt’s body and causes Stark to stumble forward. At the same time, he sweeps a leg under Stark’s feet to trip him.

Stark steps over it in a movement so graceful it’s almost natural. Huh. Well taught.

His next move is take a swing at Matt which… well that’s not such a good move. It’s a sloppy punch by Matt’s standards and easy to duck around. Stark follows it up though, a more forceful blow at Matt’s side.

Of course Matt’s not there, but it’s the thought that counts. 

‘Feel better?’ Matt snarks when Stark stops moving, breathing heavily in the middle of the ring. ‘Punching me isn’t going to make Peter your child any more than actually succeeding in getting him killed will.’

Stark charges at him with a breathless roar and the fire that’s been burning in Matt since he walked in screams in delight. Finally, something to _ punch _.

Matt lets the devil out.

He lets Stark tackle him to the ground - _ could he have dodged? Yes he’s better than Stark he could’ve _ \- before flipping them over in a swift move. Stark freezes up, heart pounding and Matt takes his chance.

He punches Stark in the face. Hears a crack when he does it again, pushing his weight down so Stark’s struggles don’t get him anywhere. Raises his hand for another blow-

Someone catches it.

_ Peter _ catches it.

It’s Matt’s turn to freeze as the grip on his wrist turns painful, the creak of his bones echoing in a way that would be terrifying if it was anyone else holding him. He’s keenly aware that Peter’s grip is too strong, a deep part of his mind already running through the ways he’ll have to hide the bruise for the next few weeks, but the rest of him is drowning in a crawling shame.

‘What are you _ doing _ Matt?’ Peter asks as he pulls Matt off Stark using just the one grip he has on Matt’s arm. ‘Mr Stark?’

‘We’re…’ Stark trails off as he slowly sits up, before sighing. ‘Kid-’

‘I’m going home now.’ Peter lets go of Matt’s arm, leaving it feeling cold despite the aching warmness of his future bruise. ‘I’ll see you… I’ll see you.’

‘Peter-’

‘Peter-’

‘Tell Mr Happy I said hi.’

‘Wait, kid he’ll give you a lift!’

Peter stops in the doorway and keeps staring ahead. ‘I want to be alone right now Mr Stark.’

With that he leaves, footsteps echoing in the silent room.

‘Fuck,’ Stark says when even the memory of the steps has begun to fade.

‘Fuck,’ Matt agrees, collasping to the ground. He hisses when his wrist touches the ground, unable to swallow the noise in time. ‘Your nose okay? Think I heard it break.’

Stark rolls over onto his knees. ‘You think? I would’ve thought you’d just know with those,’ he waves a hand, ‘things of yours.’

Matt shrugs. ‘I was a bit distracted at the time. Doesn’t… I… I have to be paying attention.’ He tries to remember the moment, but all he can remember is the firey rage he’d been feeling which, now the shame of Peter’s cold and toneless voice echoes in his brain, feels hollow.

‘Huh. Like Pete.’ Stark shuffles to his side, his hands hovering over Matt’s wrist. He doesn’t touch it until Matt nods and his touch is gentle as he pokes at it. ‘Not broken.’

‘Could’ve told you that,’ Matt snaps but he can’t manage any heat in his voice. ‘I think there’s a first aid kit in one of those desks over there, if you want to clean up your face.’

‘And wrap that.’ Stark slips out of the ring, hissing a bit as he straightens up. ‘Chances of this place having any ice?’

With a laugh, Matt slips under the ropes himself. ‘Low. They didn’t have any when I was a kid, doubt they’ve bothered now.’

He sighs. ‘We’ll have to talk now, won’t we?’ he says as Stark comes back. ‘Figure out our issues,’ Matt grimaces at the words coming out of his mouth, ‘with each other before we hurt Peter again.’

‘Or we can divide up our time like divorced parents, so we don’t have to talk to another and Peter’s never in the firing line again.’

Matt turns his head towards the ring. ‘Could we just go back to fighting?’

Stark laughs - _ laughs _ \- at that. ‘Think I know who’ll win that one.’ He takes Matt’s hand and starts to carefully wrap it up. Matt grabs the cloth by Stark’s side and starts to wipe the blood he can smell off Stark’s face with his free hand.

It’s awkward, but somehow they manage it. Stark’s bandage is almost as neat as Claire’s, showing far more skill and practice than matt would’ve expected of the billionaire. Matt in turn manages to reduce the scent of blood to a bare minimum; enough that Stark’ll be able to show his face in public until he gets himself cleaned up.

‘Not bad Horn Head,’ Stark says as he points his phone at his face, probably using its camera to check Matt’s work. ‘Got most of it.’

‘I’ve had practice.’

‘Of course you do.’

Stark’s phone dings then and he makes a soft noise. ‘Kid can’t be too mad, he’s just sent me a picture.’ 

Matt picks up his bag and feels for where he thinks the light switch is. Peter usually turns them off for him when they train here. ‘That’s surprising-’

Stark drops his phone, his heart pounding and his breaths short. Matt’s at his side in an instant, dropping his bag as he bends to pick up the undamaged phone. ‘Stark? Tell me what it is.’

But of course, Stark just points at the phone. ‘Stark, I can’t _ see _the picture. You’re going to have to tell me.’ Stark shakes his head and tries to take in deep breaths that don’t seem to do anything. 

_ A panic attack _.

‘Okay, in with me.’ Matt pulls Stark down to the floor - he’s barely standing as it is now - and closes his eyes. Then he starts to breathe, careful and measured breaths counting them off as he goes. When Stark doesn’t respond, Matt grabs his hands and holds them in his. ‘With me Stark.’

Slowly, Stark matches his breathing to Matt’s. His heart continues to pound but he stops gasping for air and Matt can feel some of the shaking in his hands disappear. 

‘It’s a picture,’ Stark finally says, ‘of the kid. Bound and unconscious…’

It’s Matt’s turn to have a pounding heart. ‘Someone’s taken him.’ The fire he’d so recently felt at Stark returns, but if before it had been a forest fire, now it is the inferno of Hell burning through him. Someone has taken _ Peter _.

‘_ Yes _,’ breathes Stark and there’s the same burning anger in his voice that Matt’s feeling. ‘They also sent a message. “You care enough to come find this kid here, then come find him here”,’ Stark rattles off an address about three blocks away, right in the depths of Hell’s Kitchen.

An ally in the bloody vengence Matt’s about to serve to the monsters stupid enough to take _ his _ Peter. 

Good. Matt should listen to Foggy more and he’s always said Matt should get himself Avenger backup. 

These assholes won’t know what’s coming for them.

Matt smiles, his cold devil’s grin. ‘Let’s go find him.’

********

‘_ So this looks just like every bad horror movie closing _,’ Stark’s voice echoes a little in the ear piece he’d forced Matt to wear but it’s a small price to pay. Matt’d do anything to get Peter back - this is nothing. 

‘_ Abandoned warehouses by the dock, very creative _.’ There’s strain in Stark’s snark, hard to hear over the fuzz of the electronics, but there. He’s in the sky, but as far away as he can be while still being in range. 

The moment he shows up is the moment the party starts after all. No point in having it begin early.

‘Criminal types aren’t known for their creativity,’ Matt replies, trying to focus enough to pick Peter out of the dozen of bodies in the warehouse. ‘There’s too many bodies, I can’t pick which one is Peter.’

‘_ Got his watch _ ,’ Stark mutters, the roar of his repulsors only dimmed by the distance between them. ‘ _ That one. _’

Matt waits a moment. ‘_ Third building from the left _ ,’ Stark adds sheepishly. ‘ _ Watch’s signal is coming from the second level.’ _

‘You ready?’

_ ‘Bring it Horn Head.’ _

With a deep breath, Matt starts running, leaping onto the roof of the building Stark pointed out. It’s the one he can hear the most people moving around but there’s no one on the roof. 

This is seriously amateur work. Matt would be annoyed at having to deal with these guys on another other night but right now all he can feel is anticipation - soon he’ll be able to show these men what happens when you take on the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen and think you can win. 

He pauses at the door to the roof, trying to hear if there’s anyone in the room it opens into. Is it worth going through a window or should he just take the most direct route?

‘_ Found him yet? _’

Oh right. There’s a plan. Matt should… probably stick to it.

‘Not yet,’ he whispers and hates how loud it sounds in the silence of the night. ‘Give me a moment to get in.’

‘_ You’re not in already? I thought you were supposed to be a ninja _.’

Matt does snort at that, working his way down the side of the building towards a window he can hear the air whistling through. ‘Peter exaggerates. If I believed him, I’d think you were some kind of superhero.’

Stark’s laugh follows him in through the slightly ajar window. The room he’s in is empty - some kind of office for the warehouse below - but he can hear moment in the rooms beside him.

And he can _ hear _Peter. 

Peter’s _ whimpers _. 

Matt bites his tongue to stop himself roaring, griping at the desk in the room to stop himself charging in. It takes him too long to focus, to realise that Peter’s whimpers aren’t related to pain - the two men with him are by the door which is nowhere near him and Matt can’t smell blood no matter how he focuses. 

Drugged then, asleep or hallucinating. Something to keep him compliant and easily managed without the risk of killing your bait.

‘I have ears on him Stark,’ he whispers still conscious of how loud his voice is. ‘Upstairs, in a room about halfway down the building. Two people in with him.’

‘_ How is he _?’

Matt takes a deep breath. ‘Unconscious still as far as I can tell. Possibly drugged.’

_ ‘Don’t have long then,’ _ Stark says. _ ‘Peter’s metabolism will burn through anything they’ve given him soon.’ _

‘Give me ten minutes,’ Matt says heading for the window. ‘Then bring the party.’

‘_ You got it.’ _

*********

Matt did not need ten minutes to deal with two dumbasses who focus too much on the door and nowhere near enough on the window. Just because it took Matt using some of Stark’s tech to get across to this window, doesn’t mean he’s the only one who could’ve done it. 

By the time he’s in the newly unlocked window and across the room, neither man has even managed to flinch. Dumbass One goes down with a sick sounding thump when hit on the head with a plank of wood and Dumbass Two is still turning when Matt tackles him to the ground and punches him.

And punches him.

And punches him, ignoring the throbbing pain in his wrist.

Peter groans, and the world comes rushing back in. ‘Peter!’

‘_ You got him? _’ Stark says breathlessly but Matt ignores him too focused on the boy in front of him. 

He runs his hands over Peter, pulling the ropes tied around his wrists off with barely any effort. But even with his gloves on, Matt can feel the heat coming off Peter’s skin. 

‘He needs a hospital,’ Matt says, checking for any other injuries. ‘Or at least a doctor of yours. Whatever they’ve given him is not agreeing with him at all.’

‘_ Got it. Friday’s on it now - but can you get him out?’ _

Matt considers the climb he just made as he throws Peter’s arm over his shoulder. When that doesn’t work, he pulls Peter into a bridal carry. ‘I can’t carry Peter out. You’re going to have to clear the way.’

‘_ Time for the party then _.’

********

Stark’s repulsors are a deafening roar to Matt long before the men in the warehouse below start to react. He tenses in his position by the door, ready to put Peter down and fight if someone comes too close - but no. They’re all rushing down to the ground floor. 

He shuffles out of the room the moment the last man clears the bottom step, ready to sprint Peter out the second he’s got a clear shot. His blood burns with the desire to fight; to punch and kick and make these men _ bleed _ but that’s just the devil in him. 

Lord, give him strength to remember what’s important here. Lord keep Peter safe until Matt can get him out of here.

‘_ You rang? _’ Stark’s voice echoes in his ear even as Matt hears it from downstairs. He grimaces but otherwise doesn’t react, creeping a step closer to the stairs. 

There’s two dozen men downstairs when Stark breaks in the door, though the way the sounds echo off the walls makes Matt certain that half of them aren’t visible to Stark. In fact, sound downstairs is echoing oddly in general and most of the sounds of breathing are muffled. Combined with that are the scents of chemicals - salt, chlorine and something he can’t place right now… Scents so strong as to cloud his senses, a bitter taste on his tongue.

Something in Matt starts to shuffle nervously.

‘You came,’ one man downstairs breathes out.

‘Course I did; you invited me. Don’t tend to turn down invites from people with something of mine.’ There’s a thump and the repulsor roar fades out - Stark must have landed. Why are the sounds so weir-

Stark takes a step forward and Matt flinches at the sound. Metal on metal - that’s why everything isn’t echoing as he expected. It’s not concrete down there but _ metal _. He focuses his mind past the chlorine - wait. Is that window cleaner? Weird. Beyond that, he can tas-

Copper. Copper wiring in the walls, far beyond what Matt would expect.

‘Stark, this is a trap,’ he whispers. ‘You’re in a room of metal-’

‘_ We are aware, _’ a woman says - must be Friday. 

‘And the wires in the walls and maybe the floors? There’s more than I’d expect for a building this size with as few lights as it has. No machinery either.’

‘_ That is news, _’ Stark says and Matt hears him shift. The dumbass below them is monologuing something about being overlooked and underestimated which… what? People do that in real life? 

‘_ I cannot locate the power source for the wires _,’ Friday says.

‘_ Great. Any other bad news? _’

‘It smells like chlorine,’ Matt adds, ‘and someone’s gone heavy on the window cleaner-’

‘_ Fuck _ ,’ Stark swears. ‘ _ Homemade chlorine gas.’ _

‘_ That would explain the masks _,’ Friday adds and Matt feels his blood go cold.

‘Are you LISTENING to us,’ the man downstairs roars and Matt feels his attention snap back to him. Oh right, the thugs. 

The thugs who all smell of sweat and rubber - oh fuck.

‘Are they all wearing rubber soles?’ Matt asks and he hears Stark swear. 

Then aloud to the warehouse, he says ‘Okay yeah. Not really listening. You’ve not said anything different to the usual. How about we skip to the bit where I fight you, you lose and I go home with the kid?’

The men downstairs shift as their leader - dumbass who’d been talking - laughs. ‘You really think either of you are walking out of here?’

‘Yup.’

There’s a long moment of silence. ‘Is that all you have to say?’

‘Yup.’

The leader seems bewildered and Matt takes his chance. He puts Peter down gently, ducks back into the room and comes out with the thing he needs.

And then throws the piece of wood as hard as he can, right at the leader of this group of monsters. 

It connects with a heavy thunk and Matt’s on his feet in the next second, gathering Peter up as Stark’s repulsors start to fire. He’s down the stairs in a hurried sprint, half falling over the last few steps. His arms are too full of groaning teenager to fight so he goes straight for Stark, ducking every time he hears someone near him.

Somehow, without any prompting, Tony never misses a shot. 

The blast of whatever beam his repulsors fire heats the air above Matt as he takes out each of Matt’s attackers. In person they are a thousand times louder than the television, but Matt grits his teeth and bears it even if half his steps are taken in near blindness as he recovers from the shots. It’s only a dozen steps before he’s right in front of Tony - the warehouse isn’t that big.

‘Flick the switch! Gas them!’ the leader slurs as he stumbles to his feet. ‘Get Stark down and the Devil will be ours too!’ 

‘Shit,’ Matt swears as he ducks in close to Tony, covering Peter’s body with his own as much as he can. There’s no cover but the metal of Tony’s suit, which seems to be bigger than Matt remembers it being when they took off for this place.

He hears the clanging of metal against metal moments after he ducks behind Tony and oh. The repulsors must be covering up the gun fire. Damn. There’s only a half dozen people attacking them now but they’re all extremely spread out. And all hiding behind some kind of metal that Stark’s repulsors is heating from the smell of it but not blasting out of place.

‘Take the kid and go,’ Tony says still firing away. This close, it’s all Matt can do not to focus on the repulsor’s roar but he manages. The mind controls the body. ‘You've got two minutes and then I bring this down.’

Matt nods, adjusting his grip on Peter to make this run a little easier. ‘See you on the other side Stark,’ he says and makes for the door.

But something makes him stop, makes him pause and linger before his big sprint. There's a tightness in his throat, words caught there that he can't force down but also can't seem to say.

‘What are you doing Mur- Daredevil? Get the kid out of here!’

It's the terror in Tony’s voice, though mostly hidden by the mechanical whine, that unsticks the words in Matt's throat.

‘Tony,’ he says and a tiny part of him rejoices in the way Tony starts at the sound of his name. ‘Don't die,’ and his words sound like a plea - oh God _ they are _.

For a moment it feels like Tony is going to say something glib, something flippant but then he nods. ‘I won't Matt. Now go!’

Something on his suit hisses and smoke fills Matt’s throat and nose. A literal smokescreen. 

He waits a moment so the smoke can spread, hugging Peter close. Then with a soft tap against Tony’s suit, he sprints for the doors. 

Voices are yelling, panicked statements that Matt can’t make out as he crosses the threshold and bolts for the safety of the building he’d scouted from. No footsteps echo behind him but Matt’s ears are still ringing with the blasts of Tony’s repulsors.

The smell of smoke doesn’t fade and Matt picks out the roar of flames…

BOOM!

He drops to the ground, covering Peter as much as possible as the warehouse behind him explodes. They are far too close and for a long moment Matt can’t hear anything over the pounding in his ears and the rushing blood in his veins.

Then a whine, familiar and comforting as something thumps to the ground in front of him. Matt’s ears are still ringing but he feels something touch his head so he lashes out, refusing to groan as his already abused wrist screams in pain.

Then the person above him takes off Matt’s glove and he can feel metal. A metal suit. Right, that whine… 

‘Tony,’ he says or thinks he says, only able to feel the vibrations of his voice without any of the sound. ‘Tony, I can’t hear you.’

There’s a long moment before the hand holding his shifts and starts to tap out dots and dashes.

Matt’s mind is foggy but he forces it to focus. Peter had taught him this, back when they first added Spanish to their activities. Called it revenge for making him learn a language never mind that he had to learn for school.

Dot. Dash. Dot. Pause. Dot. Dot. Dash. Pause. Dash. Dash. Dash. Pause. Dash. Dot. Dash.

R. U. O. K.

By the third repeat Matt’s able to nod. Tony taps a string of nonsense at him, or at least something too fast for Matt to focus on and thus nonsense. 

He shakes his head and flinches as sound choses that moment to creep in. It’s dim and there’s no way Matt’ll be able to focus on anything for a while but he can _ hear _.

‘You’re worse than the kid,’ Tony grumbles. His voice sounds like he’s talking from the bottom of a stairwell, but it’s audible. 

‘I am okay,’ Matt says and takes some pleasure in how Tony jumps. ‘Is the ambulance for Peter-’

‘Two minutes away. Police’ll be right behind, judging by the explosion.’

Matt flinches again. ‘I have to leave,’ he says already struggling to his feet. He carefully pulls Peter with him and puts him in Tony’s lap. ‘Look after him,’ he begs.

‘Wait-’

‘If I’m here, they’ll unmask me. They’ll arrest me. I _ can’t be here _.’ Matt can feel every ache in his muscles, every groan of his bones but he takes a few steps away from Peter. ‘Keep him safe.’

‘Of course.’

And Matt trusts him.

*********

It’s three hours later when Matt manages to slip into the room that an unknown number had texted him. The scent of perfume lets him know that Peter’s aunt had been here, but right now the only ones in the room are a sleeping Peter and Tony, half slumped over the bed.

‘Thought you’d be here earlier,’ Tony says, then lifts his head. ‘Oh. Broken then?’

Matt touches the cast on his arm. ‘I think the fall after the explosion did it; though all the ah, everything else probably didn’t help.’ He grimaces. ‘I didn’t mean to have it treated but one of the nurses wouldn’t take no for an answer when I came in.’ He can’t keep the fondness out of his voice though; Claire had seemed delighted at the excuse to force Matt into proper medical treatment. 

‘Friend of yours?’

‘Sometimes. When she’s not yelling at me for being stupid. How is he?’

Tony turns back to Peter. ‘He’ll be fine. Had a mild reaction to whatever they gave him but by the time he got here, it’d passed through his system. They’re keeping him overnight just to be safe. His aunt’s gone to sign some paperwork; she’ll be back soon.’

Matt nods then taps his way over to one of the other chairs in the room. ‘Tony?’ he says after a long silence.

‘...Yeah Matt?’

‘You’re… you’re…’ he bites his lip before a noise from Peter has his attention snapping to the bed. ‘Peter’s waking up.’

Peter makes his words unnecessary a moment later when he sits bolt upright, patting. ‘Matt! Help!’

‘Peter, I’m here,’ Matt says, dropping his cane in the rush to get to the bed. ‘We’re both here; you’re okay.’ 

‘What?’

‘You’re okay kid,’ Tony says from the other side of the bed, his hand coming up to rest on Peter’s forehead. ‘We got you out and you’re okay.’

His head turning, Peter grabs at Matt’s cast. ‘Did I do-’

‘No!’ Matt and Tony say together, before Matt adds, ‘I fell. There was an explosion… the doctor’s being overly careful it’s just a sprain.’

Matt can feel the disbelief from Tony but Peter must still be tired. He nods and sinks back down into his bed. ‘You guys are talking?’

‘We are,’ Tony confirms then sighs. ‘Kid… we’re sorry about before.’

‘We shouldn’t have let it get to that point,’ Matt adds. ‘And you never should’ve been caught between us like you were.’

‘I’m sorr-’

Tony covers Peter’s mouth before he can finish speaking. ‘Nothing to apologise for. Now go to sleep kid; we’ll talk about this in the morning.’

By the sound of his breathing, Peter is already halfway to asleep but he reaches for both Matt and Tony’s hands. ‘You’ll be here then?’ 

‘Yes,’ they say together. ‘We will be.’

And Matt, settling into an uncomfortable seat and aware he’s about to have a long night, is okay with that.

Tony Stark might not be the greatest person in the world but Matt’s starting to think that he is, at least, a great person for Peter.

And so long as Peter is happy, Matt can live with that.

**Epilogue**

_ ‘Ah Matt, I know I’m supposed to come to Hell’s Kitchen tonight but-’ _

‘Tony called, I know. Science homework due tomorrow that he can help with. Come Friday instead.’

_ ‘... _ Tony _ called you?’ _

‘...How else can we keep track of your ridiculous schedule kid?’

_ ‘No but, _ Tony. Tony _ called you.’ _

‘...Bring your Spanish books Friday. We’ll brush up on your adjectives.’

_ ‘Maaaaaaaatt. Just because you guys don’t want to admit you’re friends-’ _

‘And your adverbs.’

‘_ Matt! _’

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for I Have The Honour To Be Your Obedient Servant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20377402) by [Shuufleur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuufleur/pseuds/Shuufleur)


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